Just a thought…Nothing can bring you peace but yourself. [Ralph Waldo Emerson]
Leaky eyes, rainy skies and sad good-byes…another trip to Ottawa over until who-knows-when. Remembering the “don’t be sad it’s over…etc.” but this is just how life is.
There’ll be no pictures of Colin and Jane (although I took plenty – and videos – of course), but I can tell you that they’re both healthy, happy and as busy as two baseball-playing kids can be, which of course means their parents are doubly occupied.
We were lucky enough to catch three of Colin’s games (the second one of which his Great Aunt from Kingston joined us to watch, and in which he was the difference in a winning outing), and a game and practice of Jane’s. For the most part the weather cooperated; it wasn’t until Saturday that there was a deluge and thunderstorm, but we’d planned ahead, going to see The Sheep Detectives in a theatre.
We also introduced the kids to The Lion King on TV, and were amazed at how many of the lines from the 32-year-old movie Rob and I remembered by heart. Our big regret was that our trip – planned to coincide with baseball – didn’t time out for the debut of Toy Story 5, a family tradition since Lauren was a child. But at some point we’ll likely catch it, again in their family’s living room as we did The Lion King.
One might think that a nine day stay is too long for anyone, but since we stayed at a hotel, we timed our visits so as not to disrupt their home life too much. There’s an old saying that friends/family are like fish: after three days, both start to smell. We hope we didn’t leave too much of an odour!
I’m typing this on the flight home, where it’ll be late morning by the time our Porter plane touches down in Victoria. Then we head up island and, one hour after collecting our luggage, we’ll pick up our two dogs. TWO? Yes, both: our plan to leave Livi at the breeder’s where she would be nursing a new litter of pups was derailed hugely the day before we flew out on May 29th.
You may have heard the story on Gracefully and Frankly last Thursday. If not, please go, hear it for free, and don’t miss an episode every week with me and my bestie and cohost Lisa Brandt. I alluded to it in my journal here last Monday but it’s always a challenge to choose what to reveal here and what to save for the podcast!
To recap briefly: Livi met up with her “boyfriend” at the breeder’s and had three successful ties (what they call hooking up – literally) on Apr. 1, 2 and 3. They mated until Livi was literally snapping at Prince to leave her alone. Who hasn’t been there, right girls?
Anyway, the strange thing with small dogs is that it’s hard to tell whether or not they’re expecting. Usually a few weeks in, they turn their nose up at food, but with two dogs grazing from one bowl all day, it’s a bit hard to tell. We kept an eye on her and detected weight gain and a slower pace, and although we were still suspicious she might not be, by week eight we had convinced ourselves that we’d be leaving Dottie at the boarder’s, and Livi at the breeder’s, right after an appointment at the vet to check via sonogram how many puppies were in there.
You can imagine our surprise when the doctor came out of the examining room carrying sweet, lethargic Livi in her arms, and was shaking her head. “NONE?” I said loudly for people in the coffee shop across the street in Cobble Hill to hear. We just couldn’t believe it. I mean, yes, we knew it was a possibility, but to have mated three times and to have shown all the signs…and then not a pup in sight (just “lots of poop” the vet said) was unimaginable.
Of course, breeder Bev was disappointed, and now Livi at four-and-a-half has aged out of being a mom for Bev, which suits us. Dottie will have a go this winter, and then she should be done as well, and our contract with the breeder ends, making our two girls all ours. Not something I’d ever do again, but to have Dottie and then be given Livi has been worth all of the headaches and hassle.
By the time you read this, we’ll be all together, this half-hairy little family of ours (three-quarters if you count Rob), and our next adventure will be to drive east as far as Alberta to deliver my dad’s ashes and headstone to their final destination.
In the meantime, tonight we’re ferrybound to Pender Island (pictured below in the photo by our friend Jennifer Douglas) our laundry barely dry from the Ottawa trip turnaround, as we continue to seek to cocoon in whatever pockets of love and nature we can find.
Our hearts never truly mend from great loss, but we can gently stitch them as best we can, and hope that they hold. That’s what we do, right?